


Shitpost Journal

by orphan_account



Category: Game Grumps, The Yogscast, youtube - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:23:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3567863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When I get bored, I write stories. Then I read those stories, and I get disgusted by them. This is where I leave those stories. Content may vary, proceed with a sense of humor and/or caution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. YAH.

Ten characters long. Happy, AO3?

Yeah, okay, enough of that... Time to get to the actual writing. Please proceed to the next chapter. If it's not there yet, then I'm not finished with the thing yet. Please be patient.

(P.S. who the fuck gave this shit kudos omg,,,)


	2. A Cryaotic Zombie Apocalypse Thing (idk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was actually a fully planned out story I was planning on finishing someday, but I guess a barrier hit me somehow, and I couldn't get myself to finish it. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Enjoy, I guess!

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"...Cry?"

"Hm? Yeah, sport?"

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"Woah, hey, check it out... There's some big news going on right now, bro."

"...Huh? Oh, heh, yeah. I see that."

Tick. Tock. ...Tick. ...Tock.

"Listen, we need to hurry,  **WE NEED TO HURRY, NATHAN!**  THERE'S  _BULLSHIT_  GOING ON, AND I DON'T LIKE IT, BUT WE HAVE TO  _MOVE_!"

Tick.

...Tock.

...

_Tick._

"...N-Nathan? Sport?" Hack. Cough. "...You there?"

**Tock.**

* * *

Third of December, 2016. If I'm correct, Saturday. 

...I haven't heard from anyone in four weeks.

The last human trace I've found was a woman who was desperately lost and was looking for her daughter. I offered of no help to her, it seemed, as she just stared at me in disgust when she walked past me. She then kept on calling for her child, repeating the same name, over and over again.

_Lelith._

_Lelith._

_Lelith._

Just over and over again...

The woman's voice still rung in my head like a bell in a daunting church tower. She reminded me of those old and creepy churches, in fact... The one with the crows and dead trees. Her stringy and dark hair that fell over her shoulders like a waterfall... The ragged and patchy clothes she wore, as if she had stitched these on her own with a quick hand. The thought of that calms me somehow...

...That was one week ago...

...

Cry.


End file.
